


Knights and Ladies, Saints and Sinners, Steve and Darcy

by Dreamin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), F/M, Knights Templar AU, Post-Thor (2011), Pre-Avengers (2012), Steve is 730 years old, Steve is a Templar Knight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-06-26 04:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Darcy saves a knight from the prison of his coffin and finds the love of her life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> I'm gonna need you all, my dear readers, to suspend disbelief quite a bit for this one. Steve Rogers is the male lead in this but he starts out far from the Steve Rogers we know. Stick with me, though, and I promise I'll get him back on more familiar ground as the story progresses.

Darcy Lewis had no idea what possessed her to go into the pretty church. She and Jane were in France for an astronomy conference and Jane had given her the afternoon off. Deciding to spend it sightseeing, she took photos of several of the interesting-looking buildings in the town square before she found the church. Darcy wasn’t Catholic. Raised by parents who weren't very religious themselves, she gave up on all organized religions when she was a teenager. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a sense of peace as she entered the sanctuary.

A small chapel off to the side caught Darcy’s eye and she made her way over there, only to stop dead in her tracks when she entered it, a small gasp escaping her slack-jawed mouth.

In a glass coffin like something out of Snow White, there was the body of what had to be the handsomest man Darcy had ever seen. His serene face had a close-cropped brown beard and his brown hair was short and so thick that she wanted to run her fingers through it, but it was the long, thick eyelashes that really drew her in. _I wonder what color his eyes were._ He wore a suit of plate armor covered with a white tunic with an elongated red cross. His arms were bent at the elbows and he held the handle of a sword in both hands, the naked blade of the sword pointed towards his feet.

 _“Je vois que vous avez trouvé St. Etienne,”_ said an amused male voice behind her.

Darcy turned to see a middle-aged priest smile at her pleasantly. “Oh, um, _pardonne moi, Père._ ”

The priest chuckled. “I speak English. I’m Père Michel.”

She smiled gratefully. “Darcy Lewis.”

“A pleasure to meet you, _mademoiselle_. I was just saying you’ve found our St. Etienne.”

“That’s who this is?” She winced at the stupid question.

Père Michel merely nodded. “St. Etienne Lancier, better known as St. Etienne of Acre, a famous Templar Knight. The last Templar Knight, really.”

“Holy shit…” She quickly covered her mouth. “Um, sorry, Father.”

He chuckled. “It’s alright, I had much the same reaction when I first came to this chapel.”

“So, the Knights Templar, they were around what, 600 years ago?”

“Seven hundred – St. Etienne died in 1312, just before the Order was forced to disband.”

“Is he, like, a really good mummy or something?”

Père Michel smiled proudly. “St. Etienne is an incorrupt saint – his body has not decayed at all. That and the exemplary life he led were factors in his canonization in the 15th Century.”

Darcy looked around the chapel. She didn’t know much about Church architecture but it didn’t look that old. “Has he been here the entire time?”

“You are very perceptive. No, he has been passed around among a handful of churches over the centuries. He’s been here for seventy years now, the church that held him previously was bombed during the war.”

“Seventy years, that’s a long time.”

He chuckled. “Just a blink of an eye for him.” He glanced at his watch. “I must go, I have baptismal certificates to sign.”

Darcy nodded. “Um, is it okay if I take a photo of him or two?”

“As long as you don’t use a flash, it’s fine.”

“Thanks. And thank you for the info, it’s really cool to find somebody from that long ago.”

He smiled happily. “You’re welcome, child. Have a good evening.”

“You too, Father.”

As soon as he left, Darcy took a handful of photos, zooming in to get close-ups of St. Etienne’s face, then she simply watched him for a moment. “I wish I could’ve met you,” she murmured.

She left the church just as dusk was falling. Deciding to get one last look at him, she pulled up the photos. The most extreme of the close-ups had her doubting her eyes.

 _That … is that fog? On the inside of the glass? By his … by his face? What the fuck?_ One frantic phone call to Agt. Coulson and Darcy found herself in the middle of planning a rescue mission.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that after the events of the first Thor movie, Jane and Darcy moved to New York to be closer to the astronomy and astrophysics communities.

Per Coulson’s instructions, Darcy went back to her hotel room to wait. Just before midnight, there was a soft knock, but not on the front door. She opened the French doors that led to the balcony and let in the two SHIELD agents Coulson had told her to expect – Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton.

“You’re Lewis?” Natasha asked by way of greeting.

Darcy nodded, holding out her hand. “I’m Darcy, hi.”

Natasha ignored her hand but Clint shook it. “Nice to meet you. Coulson says you’re pretty handy with a Taser.”

She giggled. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Where this guy we’re gonna rescue?”

“At the church across the square. He’s in a glass coffin in the side chapel.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure he’s alive?”

“His breath was fogging up the glass.” She pulled up the photo on her phone and held it up. “See?”

He examined the photo closely. “Yeah, looks like condensation to me.” Clint looked at his partner. “Smash and grab?”

Natasha took the phone from him and examined all the photos. “No security system that I can see, so yeah. We’ll get him up to the Helicarrier, the SHIELD docs can take a look at him there.” She handed the phone back to Darcy. “If anyone asks, you know nothing about any missing saints.”

Darcy nodded. “Playing dumb, my specialty.”

The two agents left without another word the same way they came in. Half an hour later, she received a text from Coulson.

**Package received.**

_I guess that’s my good deed for the day,_ she thought as she got ready for bed.

* * *

Darcy was awoken just after dawn by two police officers who insisted on taking her in for questioning. Père Michel had identified her as someone who had expressed interest in St. Etienne but since she didn’t have the saint’s body hiding in her suitcase and her fingerprints weren’t at the crime scene, they determined she was innocent.

Jane wasn’t as easily deterred.

“What did you do?” she asked as soon as Darcy walked back into her hotel room. The connecting door between their rooms was open and Jane was sitting on the couch in Darcy’s sitting area.

“Who said I did anything?” Darcy asked, trying hard to look and sound innocent.

“Yesterday, you said you were going sightseeing, then this morning, I find out a relic has been stolen from the church right by here, the cops haul you in for questioning, and now you’re acting guilty. What. Did. You. Do?”

“Nothing,” she insisted. “All I did was take a couple of photos of a 14th Century saint.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “And who did you show those photos to?”

“Nobody,” Darcy said, not meeting her eyes.

“Who, Darcy?”

She hesitated then blurted out, “Two SHIELD agents Coulson sent but they’re totally cool. Well, Clint is, Natasha’s kinda cold. But they got him out, that’s the most important thing.”

Jane brought a hand to her forehead as she closed her eyes. “You got two SHIELD agents to steal a saint’s body?”

“No, I got two SHIELD agents to save a man who was buried alive.”

* * *

She didn’t hear from Coulson again until late that afternoon. Darcy was watching Jane give her last speech at the conference when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She ignored it until the speech was over then she slipped into the hallway.

**He’s awake and asking for his “savior.”**

Darcy shook her head a bit then started typing. **That would be Natasha and Clint.**

**He met them, he wants to meet you too.**

**That’s great but we’re flying home first thing in the morning.**

**We can take you and Dr. Foster back to New York on the Helicarrier.**

**I’ll talk to Jane.**

Once they were back in their hotel rooms, Darcy opened the connecting door and found her boss at the small table, poring over some sort of star chart. “Hey, um, Coulson offered us a ride home.”

Jane looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “This is SHIELD we’re talking about – what’s the catch?”

“Um, that saint from the church?”

“Yes?” Jane asked warily.

“He’s asking for me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy wasn’t given a chance to marvel at the flying aircraft carrier before Coulson ushered her into what looked to her like the interrogation room on any given police procedural. There was a table, two chairs, and a large mirror on one wall. Coulson took one of the chairs then pulled out his phone, a clear “ignore me” vibe coming off him. A man she knew had to be Etienne stood with his back to the door, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Somewhere along the line, he had traded his plate armor for black jeans and a black t-shirt. Both were tight enough to show off his physique and Darcy had to remind herself that the man was a saint, not somebody to ogle.

She cleared her throat, causing him to turn around and she was struck speechless by his eyes – icy blue-gray, darker on the outer edge. They seemed to pierce her soul, or maybe that was her imagination. While she was busy gaping at him, he assessed her.

“You’re Darcy Lewis?” he asked without even a hint of a French accent as he approached her. Instead, his accent was American.

“Um, yeah. Hi.” She held out her hand, which he regarded for a moment before bowing then kissing her hand like something out of a period drama. “Oh wow,” she murmured. “You really are from the 14th Century, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he said when he straightened. “I have a hard time accepting that this is the 21st.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Um, why don’t you sound French?”

Etienne smiled a bit, a sight she could definitely get used to. “I must confess that I’m a polyglot – I pick up languages and accents with ease, _mais je pourrais revenir en français si vous voulez_.”

Darcy didn’t speak French but she could guess what he said. “No, English is fine.”

He chuckled. _“Comme vous le souhaitez.”_

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘As you wish.’”

“Oh, right.” She had to admit that he sounded pretty sexy when he spoke French. “Um, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, to thank you – no one else noticed that I still breathed. You saved my life, I am forever in your debt.”

Something told her he meant that and she held up her hands. “No, no, it’s okay, you don’t owe me anything.”

Etienne frowned in confusion. “It would be dishonorable to ignore what you have done for me.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Tell you what – save my life one of these days and we’re even.”

He smiled a bit. “Very well.”

“So, um … have you met everyone?”

He nodded. “Fury wants to recruit me to the Avengers Initiative, however I told him I must know this world before I decide if I want to defend it.”

Coulson, who was obviously listening to their conversation even if he wasn’t taking part, nodded approvingly.

“That makes sense,” Darcy said, smiling. “Well, when we get back to New York, I can show you around.”

“Only if we have a chaperone.”

“What? Why?” she asked, confused. “We’re both adults.”

Coulson spoke up. “Templar Knights had to live by certain rules, one of them stating that they were to have no contact with women, including relatives.”

“I’m bending the rules as it is talking to you like this,” Etienne explained, “but I had to meet you.”

“Your Order ended seven hundred years ago, plus you ‘died,’ I would think that lets you off the hook.” She looked at Coulson, raising an eyebrow. “And when did you become a history buff?”

Coulson chuckled. “I’ve always been fascinated by the Knights Templar. Meeting Sir Etienne has been a dream come true.”

“Right.” She turned back to Etienne. “If we can get someone to come with us?”

He smiled, making her heart do a little flip. “Then I would be happy to let you show me your city.”


	4. Chapter 4

The Helicarrier was an hour away from New York when the story of the “missing” saint hit the international news.

“Can we not just explain that I’m alive?” Etienne asked. He, Darcy, Jane, Fury, Clint, Natasha, and Coulson were seated at a table on the bridge, near the monitors Fury used to keep an eye on things.

“That would be like using oil to put out a fire,” Darcy explained. “It would cause a lot more problems than it would solve.”

“You’ll need an entirely new identity,” Coulson said. “No one outside of SHIELD can know you’re seven hundred years old.”

“Seven hundred and thirty, to be exact,” Etienne said casually.

Darcy smiled a bit, amused. “Let’s start with your name.” She Googled “Etienne” on her laptop and chuckled at the first result. “That was easy -- says here that ‘Etienne’ is the French version of ‘Steven.’”

“I could have told you that,” he said, smiling faintly. “To save you time on your magic device, ‘Lancier’ is French for ‘spearman.’”

“So, is there an English name that means ‘spearman?’” Darcy asked.

“‘Rogers,’” Jane said, reading it off her phone. She looked at Etienne and Darcy. “‘Steven Rogers’ has a nice ring to it.”

Darcy grinned. “It does.” She turned to him. “What do you think, Big Guy?”

He raised an eyebrow. “‘Big Guy?’”

Her grin widened. “You’re six-foot-two and built like a tree trunk, ‘Big Guy’ fits.”

“The name is acceptable but I’m uncertain about the nickname.”

“It’ll grow on you,” Darcy said confidently.

Coulson brought up a blank SHIELD personnel form on one of the monitors and started filling it out from his laptop. “Name: Rogers, Steven. Date of birth?”

“What’s today?” Steven asked.

“June 13th, 2012,” Darcy said.

Steven looked at Coulson. “Put down June 13th, 1982.”

Coulson smiled a bit. _“Bon anniversaire.”_

He smiled back. _“Merci.”_

“Hair: Brown. Eyes: Blue. Height: 6’2”. Weight: 240 pounds.” At Steven’s curious look, he explained, “You were weighed when you were brought in.”

“Which was totally unnecessary,” Clint said, smirking. “Nat and I could’ve told them you weigh a ton.”

Coulson rolled his eyes. “I assume ‘religion’ is Roman Catholic.”

Steven nodded then read over the rest of the form on the monitor. “I suppose ‘nationality’ should be ‘American.’”

“That’ll be the easiest to fake documents for,” Coulson said. “Special abilities?”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “Did you not see him wipe the floor with six SHIELD agents after he woke up?”

Darcy asked, surprised, “You fought them?”

“Director Fury asked for a demonstration,” Steven said simply.

“Coulson kept saying how much of a badass the guy had been,” Fury said. “I wanted to see if the man lived up to the legend.” He smirked. “He got medieval on their asses, literally.”

Steven shrugged. “I could have fought more if I had a real weapon instead of that practice sword.”

“Real steel for real enemies,” Fury said. “I know knights were born killers but what you showed is beyond any sort of training anyone had back then.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “How much of my life is known?”

“You mean actual history or what’s in your hagiography?” Coulson asked.

“Hagio-what?” Darcy asked.

“Hagiography – the life of a saint,” Steven said. “Either.”

“Both mention that you were a squire at the Siege of Acre in 1291, where you showed incredible courage for your age.”

“I was the youngest son of an impoverished noble family when Sir Charles made me his squire. Picture a malnourished nine-year-old – small and scrawny. Still, when Sir Charles fell from his mount, gravely injured, I took his sword, which was almost as tall as I was and half as heavy, and defended him as best I could.”

“It’s said that you fought with ‘the heart of a lion.’”

He rolled his eyes. “I fought with the heart of a pissed-off boy, barely managing to hold off the enemy until aid came.”

“Very brave,” Darcy said approvingly, “but how did you get from being a skinny kid to having the body of a Greek god? And don’t say ‘puberty.’”

Steven smirked. “Alchemy.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Alchemy?” Darcy asked, surprised. “So, what, instead of turning lead into gold, they turned a skinny kid into a hottie?”

Coulson choked on the sip of coffee he’d just taken.

“‘Hottie?’” Steven asked, still smirking.

 _He knows what it means, or at least, he can guess._ She smirked back. “Yeah, hottie. Got a problem with that?”

“None at all. It was as you say, they found a way to improve my health.”

“What you did in there goes way beyond just being healthy,” Fury pointed out.

He shrugged a bit. “They wanted to create the perfect knight, if only so they would lose fewer men on the battlefield.”

“But alchemy isn’t real,” Jane protested. “It’s pre-science at best and superstition at worst.”

“Is my very presence here not proof enough?”

“He’s got a point, Boss,” Darcy said.

“If it’s alright with you,” Fury said, “I’d like some of our scientists to take a look at your blood.”

“Fury’s actually asking permission first?” Clint said, grinning. “I’m impressed.”

Steven raised an eyebrow. “Do not be too impressed, Agt. Barton – the blood was taken when I woke up. Director Fury is asking permission after the fact.”

“That’s the Fury I know,” Nat said, smirking.

“Fine, guilty,” Fury admitted. “So, how ‘bout it?”

“If you think your scientists can replicate their work, they are more than welcome to try, but I tell you truthfully that the alchemists’ formula died with them.”

“Why did they only make you?” Darcy asked.

“As I said, they died,” he said evenly, but Darcy could see the pain in his eyes. “The castle they lived in was attacked by a prince who owed money to the Order and refused to pay. I was their only success.”

She stared at him. “That’s horrible.”

“That’s how the world was, _mademoiselle_.”

Darcy smiled weakly. “These days, everybody just sues each other instead.”

Jane held up a protesting hand. “Wait, if you were their only success, that means there were failures before you?”

“Sadly, yes,” Steven said quietly. “Just one, a German knight named Johan. The original formula poisoned him, but he knew the risks and was willing to take the chance.”

“Did you know him well?” Darcy asked gently.

“No, he kept to himself.” Before he could say anything more, their arrival in New York airspace was announced.

After Darcy and Jane got their things together, Coulson approached them. “SHIELD needs your help with something, Ms. Lewis.”

She eyed him warily. “No, nuh-uh, not listening, sorry. I don’t owe SHIELD anything.”

“It has to do with Capt. Rogers.”

“Since when is he a captain?”

“It’s the rank I had within the Templars,” Steven said as he approached them.

“I decided to include it in his fictional background,” Coulson added. “Former Special Forces.”

“Right.” She turned to Steven, unconsciously biting her lip as she realized exactly how much he towered over her – she only came up to his shoulder. “What’s the favor?”

“It would seem I am in need of accommodation,” Steven said and Darcy would swear he was blushing. “Agt. Coulson suggested that I stay with you, despite my telling him about the rules-”

“Those archaic rules aren’t going to work in the modern world, Captain,” Coulson cut in. “I suggest you find another way to honor the Templars’ ideals.”

Steven’s blush deepened. “Be that as it may, I am still in need of-”

“My place is too small,” Darcy cut in. “Sorry, but I only have a little one-bedroom.” _And just the thought of sharing that with Monsieur Sex On A Stick is enough to turn me into goo._

“You have a sofa-bed,” Jane pointed out, unhelpfully in Darcy’s opinion.

“More like a torture device,” Darcy explained. “I wouldn’t let my worst enemy spend more than one night on it.”

“It’s only until he can find a place of his own,” Coulson said. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“In Manhattan? Try months.” Sighing heavily, she looked at Steven. “If you’re okay with sharing a small apartment with a single woman and no chaperone, I guess it’s okay with me.” She held out her hand.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second then he nodded. “I’m certain we will make it work.” He took her hand and kissed it.

_Yep, definitely goo._


	6. Chapter 6

Except for having to explain cars, bicycles, and skyscrapers, the ride to her apartment building in the back of a SHIELD car was quiet and frankly, Darcy preferred it that way. It gave her time to think.

 _How in the hell am I going to share a tiny, tiny apartment with a guy who ticks every single one of my boxes, including ones I didn’t even know I had? I guess the only good thing is his honor code or whatever – it means we won’t be doing the horizontal mambo anytime soon._ She snuck a glance at Steven. Thankfully, he was too busy looking at everything outside the car to notice her. _I do know who’s going to have a starring role in my fantasies from now on._

Once they were in her building, everything was fine until it was time to get on the elevator. Steven absolutely refused.

“I don’t trust such a small box to get us to your floor safely,” he said, scowling at said small box.

“Elevators are perfectly safe,” Darcy insisted. “They have a ton of safety features so even if the elevator breaks, the people inside it aren’t hurt.”

“I will take the stairs.”

“My apartment’s on the tenth floor.”

“I will still take the stairs.”

She sighed quietly. “Suit yourself.” Darcy got into the elevator and pushed the button to close the doors, thankful that she didn’t have to share such a small space with such an attractive man.

By the time he knocked on her front door, she was wishing she had more time to pick up. There were dirty dishes in the sink, books everywhere, and she knew there were dirty clothes all over her bedroom. Darcy opened the door to see Steven standing there, looking perfectly at ease.

“Not fair,” she muttered as she let him in. “You’re not winded and you didn’t even break a sweat. The last time the elevator was out, I was sweating up a storm and panting like I’d just run a marathon.”

Steven chuckled. “Should I apologize?”

She smiled a bit. “No, just … don’t rub my nose in it.” She gave him a quick tour of the apartment, though she drew the line at showing him her bedroom. Then she realized he didn’t have anything with him. “What about your stuff?”

“My stuff?” he asked, confused.

“Your suit of armor? Your sword?”

“Those were modern replicas – I’m certain my arms and armor rusted away centuries ago.”

“Oh.” She felt inexplicably sad about that.

He must’ve seen it on her face. “Not to worry,” he said as he pulled a wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “SHIELD has provided me with a ‘credit card,’ Agt. Coulson said it’s how things are paid for currently.”

“Basically,” she said, feeling instantly better. “Okay, shopping spree it is. We just need to get your measurements.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What sort of measurements?”

 _Good question._ She did a quick Google search on her phone. “Chest, height, waist, seat, sleeve, and, um, inseam.” Her cheeks started to get warm.

“And that is?”

“The length of the inside of the pants from the ankle to the, um, crotch.” Her cheeks were burning now. “I’d ask you to do it yourself but it’s really a two-person job.”

“I see.”

“Um, let me go get the measuring tape.” She went to her bedroom, telling herself she wasn’t fleeing, then she dug around in her closet until she found her sewing kit. When she got back to the main room, Steven was looking at the photographs on the wall of her family.

“These … aren’t paintings, are they?” he asked, confused.

Darcy smiled sympathetically. “They’re photographs. Think of them as a captured moment in time. So, um...” She held up the measuring tape. “Let’s get these and we can go.”

Getting his chest, waist, and sleeve measurements were easy, and she already knew his height. She stopped dead when it came to the next one. _How could I forget about his ass? The most spectacular ass in the history of asses and I have to measure it, preferably without drooling._

Her cheeks warm again, she stood in front of Steven. “Um, arms up.” He obediently raised his arms then she wrapped the measuring tape around his hips, trying hard not to think about his ass and failing completely. She noted the number then removed the measuring tape before writing it down on a small notepad with the other measurements. _One more._ Taking a deep breath, she knelt in front of Steven then looked up at him.

He looked down at her, smiling gently. “I’m certain I can get this measurement myself, Darcy.”

“The site says it takes two people or it won’t be accurate.” She held the end of the measuring tape to the inside of the left leg of his jeans and held up the rest of it. “Um, here.”

He took it and held the measuring tape up to his crotch while Darcy watched and tried hard not to ogle. She noted the number then rose, her cheeks still burning, before writing it down with the others.

“See?” Steven said, amused. “That wasn’t so bad.”

One glance at him told her he wasn’t as unaffected as he sounded – his cheeks were faintly pink. “Uh-huh,” she muttered. “Oh, I should probably get your neck too.” She had to stand on her tiptoes to loop the measuring tape around his neck, his eyes on hers the entire time. He kept his hands to himself, though, and she couldn’t help wishing he hadn’t since her knees felt a little weak.

_I really hope he finds a place soon or my resolve is going to completely disappear._


	7. Chapter 7

Taking a 14th Century knight clothes shopping turned out to be easier than Darcy thought. Steven had been blessed with a body that looked good in anything. When it came to picking out jeans, he tried on various styles in the dressing room and dutifully presented himself to Darcy in each of them. To her unspoken delight, he picked the style that showed off his assets the best.

 _I don’t know what made him pick those but I’m just gonna enjoy the eye candy._ Then she helped him pick out shirts, gently steering him more towards shades of blue to bring out his eyes. Shoes, outerwear, and any other accessories she could think of came next. Finally, Darcy took him to get a tailor-made suit ordered and just the thought of Steven dressed up made her melt.

They were taking a cab back to her building when her stomach grumbled loudly, making her blush. “Um, I guess that means we should get dinner. What are you in the mood for?”

Steven glanced outside as the cab passed a pizzeria. “That? It looks interesting.”

Darcy grinned. “Pizza it is, we can order a couple when we get home and have them delivered.” She paused. “You’re French, I assume you like wine.”

He smiled a bit. _“Mais bien sûr.”_ At her raised eyebrow, he translated, grinning, “But of course.”

She chuckled. “Right. I’ve got an unopened bottle of red, I’ll have to get more the next time I go grocery shopping, plus whatever food you’re going to want.”

“You’ll find I’m very easy to please, _mademoiselle_.”

 _Is he flirting with me?_ “You called me Darcy earlier.”

In the darkness of the cab, it was hard to be sure, but she thought he was blushing. “Yes, well… It’s hard to remember one’s manners when a beautiful woman is kneeling in front of you.”

She stared at him. “Holy … holy something...”

“Quite the opposite, I’m afraid,” Steven muttered.

Darcy knew her jaw was hanging open but she was too shocked to care.

Before Steven could elaborate, the cab stopped at her building. Darcy paid the fare and they got out, both of them carrying the shopping bags into the building. Once they were inside, she glanced at the door to the stairs then turned to him. “You could try the elevator, just this once,” she said gently. “I’ll be right there with you.”

He looked at the elevator then shook his head. “Perhaps next time.” He headed for the stairwell as Darcy headed for the elevator.

By the time they were seated at the table with a slice of pepperoni pizza and a glass of wine each, Darcy was really questioning the wisdom of agreeing to house Steven for what was, realistically, an indefinite amount of time. _He’s easily the hottest guy I’ve ever met and it looks like he’s attracted to me too. Fuck, I’m a total dumbass._ She imagined the look on Coulson’s face if she tried to return her roommate and giggled.

“Something amuses you?” Steven asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Not you,” she reassured him. “Just a stray thought, that’s all. I’d never laugh at you.”

“That is encouraging.” He took a sip of his wine.

“So … um … are we going to continue the discussion we had in the cab?”

Steven’s cheeks flushed as he scowled. “No.” He got up and carried his half-eaten piece into the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation.

 _Great, now I’ve offended him. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later._ She watched him dump the slice in the garbage then put the plate in the dishwasher, like she had shown him. He paused to finish his wine before washing the glass, also like she had shown him, then put the glass on the drying rack.

“I’m going to wash before bed,” he announced, not looking at her, as he left the kitchen and headed for the bathroom.

Darcy didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was damn early. _He can’t stand to look at me another minute. Fuck…_ “I'll get the sofa-bed ready,” she called out just before she heard the door shut.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck…_


	8. Chapter 8

Not knowing what else to do, Darcy texted Coulson.

**I fucked up and Steven’s pissed at me. What do I do?**

**No, the question is, what did you do?**

**We kinda, sorta flirted?**

Her phone rang a minute later. Seeing it was Coulson, she pressed the button. “Why is he so upset?”

“Ms. Lewis…” Coulson sighed quietly.

“Call me Darcy.”

“Fine, Darcy, you need to understand the world Steven came from. Back then, every Christian in Europe was Catholic. The Church was all-powerful and most people obeyed blindly. Sex before marriage? Forbidden. Marrying a non-Catholic? Forbidden. And the rules were even stricter for a Templar Knight. You’re probably the first woman he’s spoken to since he was a child.”

She tried to wrap her head around all of that. “So, he’s feeling guilty for liking me?”

“It’s more than that. To stray at all was to risk their own salvation.”

“Then, he just has to go to Confession and everything’s hunky-dory, right?” When Coulson didn’t say anything, she added, “There’s more?”

“He may decide to ‘take the discipline.’”

“Which means what?” she asked carefully.

“Self-flagellation.”

“‘Self-flagellation?’ As in … whipping himself?”

“Yes. Practitioners have a special scourge called a ‘discipline.’”

“He came here with nothing but borrowed clothes on his back.” Coulson hesitated again and her eyes widened. “Coulson?”

“Some of them were known to improvise,” he said quietly.

_He locked himself in my bathroom!_ “Shit!” She didn’t feel the phone fall from her grasp as she ran to the bathroom and pounded on the door. “Open the damn door, Steven! I’m not about to let you hurt yourself! I’ll tase you if I fucking have to!”

The door was wrenched open and Steven stood there, dripping wet and wearing nothing but hastily-wrapped towel around his waist. “What in Heaven’s name are you talking about?” he asked, staring at her.

“The discipline!”

His eyes widened. “What do you know of it?”

“I know I’m not gonna let you use it! You can flagellate yourself metaphorically all you want but don’t you dare hurt yourself! God, people who want to whip themselves need therapy!”

Steven sighed quietly. “I swear to you, _mon désir_ , that I have never used the discipline, nor would I. There are other ways to be closer to God. Better ways.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I might dwell on Christ’s suffering but I would never do it to myself.”

“Alright...” She raised an eyebrow. “What did you call me? Dessert?”

Steven chuckled. “It … doesn’t translate into English.”

Darcy knew, absolutely knew, that he was lying but she decided not to call him on it. “Fine,” she muttered.

“You were worried for me, truly?” he asked softly.

“Duh, of course I was. You’re … you’re under my roof, that makes you my responsibility.” _Good God, you’re a horrible liar, Darcy Lewis._

“Of course,” he muttered. He brushed past her and went to the pile of new clothes on the coffee table. Grabbing a pair of pajamas, he went back into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Oh yeah, that really helped,” she muttered. After a moment, she knocked on the door. “Steven? I was worried because … because I like you. I want us to be friends and friends don’t let friends hurt themselves.” She leaned her forehead on the door, sighing quietly. “If something’s bothering you, I need you to tell me. We’ll work it out.”

The door opened so suddenly that she fell forward, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms. She looked up at him and was struck once more by how beautiful his eyes were, especially when he smiled at her, like he did at that moment.

“Careful, Darcy,” he murmured. “I can’t have you falling for me.”

_Too late. Way too late._


	9. Chapter 9

Belatedly, Darcy remembered she had been on the phone with Coulson. After assuring herself that Steven was fine, she went back to the main room and picked up her phone. Thankfully, it had landed on the carpet unharmed.

“Coulson?”

“Still here.”

“He says he’s never done that.”

“Good,” Coulson said, sounding relieved. “Some of us are going out of town on SHIELD business tomorrow. If you need help, call Romanoff.”

“Right.”

“Good luck, Darcy.”

She smiled a bit. “Thanks, Coulson.” _I’m gonna need it._

* * *

Darcy stumbled out of the bathroom the next morning, yawning, then made her pre-coffee shuffle to the kitchen. She got the Keurig started then looked over at the sitting area. Steven was sleeping on his stomach on the queen-sized sofa-bed, his limbs completely stretched out so that he was taking up most of the bed.

 _Definitely a bachelor,_ she thought, giggling. An image came to mind of the two of them sharing a bed, his long limbs wrapped around her. _Ugh, we need to be just friends and thoughts like that are NOT helping._

While she was fixing her first cup of coffee, she heard Steven getting up. He stumbled into the bathroom then came into the kitchen with wrinkled pajamas and his hair sticking up in every direction.

 _God, he’s adorable,_ she thought, grinning. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

He smiled sleepily. “ _Bonjour,_ Darcy. I’ve had worse nights, but those were all spent sleeping on the ground.”

“Ouch,” she said, smiling a bit. “Well, I did warn you.”

“That you did.” He looked over at the Keurig. “What smells so delicious?”

“That would be my coffee.” She held up her cup. “Taste it. If you like it, I’ll make you a cup.”

He obediently took the cup from her and took a sip, his eyes never leaving hers, and Darcy suppressed a shiver. Steven gave her back the cup, smiling. “It’s good, I’d love a cup.”

“Great!” She got the Keurig started again. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Whatever you’re having would be fine, I’m certain.”

She smiled. “Scrambled eggs it is.” She showed Steven how to fix his coffee the way he wanted then she got started on the eggs. Once they were seated at the table, Darcy couldn’t help smiling as Steven wolfed down his food. “Hungry?”

“A bit, yeah,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m just glad you like it.” She started on her own eggs. “Was there something you needed to do today?”

“I need to report to SHIELD to receive new arms and armor.”

Darcy smiled a bit. “I assume ‘armor’ doesn’t mean plate armor, nobody wears that anymore.”

“That’s disappointing,” Steven admitted. “Plate armor is what I’m familiar with. I know how to move in it and where its weaknesses are.”

“But wasn’t it really heavy?”

“You become accustomed to it, just like everything else.”

Darcy smiled a bit. “I can’t believe you picked up English so fast.”

Steven chuckled. “While I enjoy impressing you, I must admit that I already knew English, it’s simply the American accent I picked up from listening to everyone at SHIELD.”

“Ah ha! So, where did you learn English?”

“From the Templars. The monks and knights came from all over Christendom. I wanted to be able to talk to all of them so I was determined to learn as many languages as I could.”

“Well, your English is pretty damn perfect.”

Steven smiled. “Thank you.”

She smirked. “But I gotta say, I love it when you speak French.”

He chuckled. “ _Je ne parlerais que le français si je savais que vous le comprendriez, mon désir_.”

“There you go again, calling me dessert,” she said, grinning. “Seriously, what did you say?”

“‘I would only speak French if I knew you would understand it.’”

“Uh huh. I think you like being able to say something without me knowing what it is.” She picked up her cup and smiled at him over it. “You, Steven Rogers, like having secrets.”

“On the contrary,” he said, smirking, as he got up and went to refill his cup, “perhaps I like using a language you don’t know to have things out in the open without you realizing it.”

Darcy stared at him, only able to think one thing.

_I gotta learn French._


	10. Chapter 10

They were sharing a cab later that morning when a thought struck Darcy. “Did anyone actually ask you if you wanted to join SHIELD or did they just assume?”

Steven nodded. “Director Fury did offer, after Agt. Coulson related what I had done as a Templar Knight, and after I ‘went medieval’ on his agents. I agreed to join without a second thought.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Without a noble purpose, without someone or something to serve, I am adrift alone in an unfamiliar world.”

“But you’re not alone,” she said gently as she reached out to take his hand but he pulled it away. That stung but she continued. “You have me.”

“We won’t be roommates forever, Darcy.” There was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

She smiled a bit, trying to lift his mood. “Are you kidding? With the current New York housing market, you’ll be living with me for the rest of the century.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps you are right.”

Darcy grinned. “I’ll let you in on a little secret – I’m always right.”

Steven smiled faintly. “No one is right all the time.” He paused then murmured, “Even I am wrong from time to time.”

Before she could ask him what he was wrong about, the cab stopped at the SHIELD office.

* * *

That afternoon, she was helping Jane prepare a speech for yet another conference when her phone chirped. She was instantly curious when she saw it was a text from Natasha.

**Rogers wanted you to be the first one to see.**

A photo accompanied the text – Steven in a red, white, and blue uniform with a large white star on his chest. He held a round metal shield that was also red, white, and blue in one hand plus what looked to be a modern take on a medieval sword in the other. Then came another text.

**Fury wants to call him Captain America.**

**How does Steven feel about it?** Darcy texted back.

**Better since I told him the French flag also has those colors.**

She smiled a bit. **Tell him he looks amazing.** _Because he does._

**He says Merci.**

* * *

The first thing she asked when he came home that night was, “So, Captain America, huh?”

Steve chuckled as he set the large black duffle bag down. “Director Fury thinks it’ll be good ‘public relations’ if the American people had a patriotic hero to look up to. Assuming, that is, that the public ever learns of my existence.”

“They just won’t know you’re actually older than this country by a few hundred years.”

“Correct. I am told this country believes in freedom, that’s something I can support.”

“Good.” She smiled. “So, what would you like for dinner?”

Steven smiled back. “Surprise me.”

“Chinese it is.”

It turned out that Steven was a big fan of stir fry. They talked about his first day of SHIELD training then she asked him about how he trained to be a knight and he talked about the knights who first trained him to fight. Darcy listened, enchanted, as he told one story after another.

Before they knew it, the food was long gone, it was well after midnight, and they had talked for hours. Darcy stood on legs that protested at being in the same position for hours.

Steven smiled apologetically as he rose. “Forgive me, Darcy. It seems I had a lot to say tonight.”

“Don’t apologize,” she insisted. “You did have a lot to say and you needed an outlet. I usually do more talking than listening, but it’s easy to make an exception for you.”

“Thank you. I … um … you can get ready for bed first.”

“Thanks.” She took her dirty dishes to the kitchen and loaded them into the dishwasher before going into the bathroom. By the time she came out, Steven had the sofa-bed unfolded and had his pajamas in hand. She smiled at him. “All yours. Goodnight, Steven.”

He smiled as he approached her. “Sleep well, Darcy.” As he passed her, she had to fight the urge to kiss him. _Fuck, I’m in trouble,_ she thought as she went into her room and shut the door. _So much trouble._


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy woke from a dreamless sleep to the sound of someone shouting and she scrambled out of bed when she realized it was Steven. Yanking the bedroom door open, she ran to the main room. Steven was sitting bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide with fear and pain and his gaze unfocused.

“Steven?” she asked gently as she sat on the edge of the sofa-bed. The metal dug into the backs of her thighs but she barely noticed. He didn’t respond so she tried again. “Etienne?”

He blinked in confusion then he finally noticed her. “Darcy?” he asked weakly.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “You’re safe now.” She took his hand and this time, he let her. “Was it a nightmare?”

He looked down at their hands, saying quietly, “A memory.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

She tried not to let her disappointment show. _It’s completely up to him who he wants to open up to._ “Okay,” she said then she got up. “My door’s always open.”

He nodded. _“Merci.”_

“You’re welcome.” She went back to bed and tried not to think about the hurting man a few yards away.

* * *

Darcy woke again to a soft knock on her door. She got up and went to it, taking a deep breath before opening the door. She expected to see Steven standing there. What she didn’t expect was a shirtless Steven. Her cheeks immediately felt warm and she knew she was blushing.

“Forgive me, I didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured, “but I find it’s impossible to fall asleep now.”

She smiled weakly. “Well, I did tell you it’s a crappy sofa-bed. Um, you can take my bed, I’ll take the sofa-bed.”

“It would be dishonorable of me to force a woman out of her own bed.”

“The only other option is sharing.”

He hesitated for a moment. “If I swear to keep my hands to myself and you do the same?”

“Sure.” She led him back to the bed. “Um, do I want to know what happened to the other half of your pajamas?”

In the darkened room, she couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not. “It felt too restrictive after tossing and turning so much. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No.” _Horny, maybe, but not uncomfortable._ She got into the bed on the left then he got in next to her. “Goodnight, Steven,” she murmured.

_“Bonne nuit et fait de beaux rêves, mon désir.”_

She smiled a bit, amused. “Translate, please?”

“‘Goodnight and sweet dreams.’”

“Mmm. And again with the ‘my dessert.’”

Steven chuckled. “Go to sleep, Darcy.”

_Not anytime soon,_ she thought, trying hard to ignore the gorgeous man beside her.

* * *

She woke up the next morning to find herself lying on her side with a familiar arm wrapped around her waist, a face buried in her neck, and a full bladder.

_Shit…_ She tried to get up but the arm merely held her tighter. _He has to be asleep, he’d never do this if he was awake._ “Steven?”

“Mmm?”

She couldn’t help smiling. “You gotta let me up.”

“Let you up…?” There was a pause then faster than she could blink, he released her and was out of bed, swearing a French blue streak.

Darcy took the opportunity to escape to the bathroom. When she came back, he was still swearing and had started pacing the length of the bedroom.

_“Merde! Merde! Merde! Qu'est-ce que je pensais?”_

She stood in front of him, forcing him to stop his pacing. “Hey, calm down,” she said gently. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I touched you.”

“Yeah but that’s all that happened.”

“That’s more than enough.” He looked away, muttering, “I was a fool to think I could do this.”

“You mean sharing a bed?”

He turned back to her and nodded. “You are _mon désir_ , but I foolishly thought myself strong enough to resist. It would seem my sleeping self had other ideas.”

Something finally clicked for Darcy. “‘ _Mon désir_ ,’ it means ‘my desire,’ doesn’t it?” she asked softly and he nodded. “You’ve been telling me for two days that you desire me?”

“More than that,” he murmured, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s not just that I desire you, but that I desire **only** you.”

“Desire isn’t a sin, Steven.”

“But to act on it before we are married, that is the sin.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I cannot stay here, Darcy. Another day in your lovely presence and I will be on my knees begging for any affection you could spare.”

She quickly shoved aside that mental image. “Look, you’re … you’re free to do whatever you want but I’m telling you, SHIELD doesn’t have anywhere for you to go, so you’re kinda stuck here.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable but I never set out to turn you on.”

“I know you didn’t, Darcy. You didn’t need to.” He sighed quietly. “I thank you immensely for your kindness but I will find another place to stay.”

“Suit yourself,” she said quietly. She was saved from saying anything more by her mobile chirping. It was a text from Natasha.

**Fury needs both of you in the office now.**

She looked up at Steven. “Um, better put your moving plans on hold, Fury wants to see us.”

“Both of us?” he asked, scowling in confusion. “Why?”

“Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”


	12. Chapter 12

Darcy didn’t know what she expected, but Steven being ordered to go on his first mission as an Avenger and her being asked to be his “handler” wasn’t it.

She stared at Fury and Coulson. “I can’t work for SHIELD, Jane needs me.”

“We explained to Dr. Foster that SHIELD and, more specifically, Capt. Rogers need you more,” Coulson said.

Darcy looked over at Steven. He was sitting next to her in front of Fury’s desk, his expression so closed off that it was like looking at a brick wall. _No help there._ She turned back to Fury. “Sorry, can’t do it.”

Fury raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you two had a fight.”

She sighed quietly. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”

At the same time, Steven said evenly, “Not at all.”

Darcy stared at him but before she could say anything, Fury said, “Well, whatever it was, I need you to get past it. Rogers, we need a man with your fighting skills and leadership capabilities. Lewis, we need someone who can guide Rogers through this century. You seemed to be getting along fine before. Do whatever you need to do to get back there in the next…” He glanced at his watch. “Thirty minutes. Then it’s wheels up for you, Rogers – you’re heading to Stuttgart.”

It was a clear dismissal so Darcy got up and left Fury’s office, Steven on her heels. Once they were out of earshot, he gently grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stop walking.

“What?” she demanded, glaring up at him.

Looking around, Steven then guided her into an unoccupied office then locked the door and fiddled with the blinds until he got them to close.

“What are we gonna do?” she quietly asked his back.

He turned to her and she was struck by the emotions in his eyes, the most prominent one being longing. “We’ll do our duty. It’s my duty to serve the side of righteousness.”

Darcy asked carefully, “And mine?”

Steven moved closer to her then gently took her hands. “It would seem your duty is to help me.”

She looked away. “I’m not gonna let you guilt trip me into this, Big Guy.”

“Then forget duty,” he said gently. “Don’t do this for SHIELD, do it for me. I must fight but I can’t win without you.” He let go of her hands, silently leaving her free to do what she wanted, but his eyes pleaded with her.

 _Fuck it, I’m always a sucker for blue eyes._ “Alright,” she said, holding out her hand.

As she expected, Steven took her hand and kissed it. “Thank you, _mon ange_ ,” he murmured.

“Oh no, I’m not playing the guessing game again,” she said, smirking. “You’re going to tell me what this one means.”

He chuckled. “‘My angel.’”

“What happened to ‘ _mon désir_?’”

Steven smiled a bit. “It’s inappropriate for public places.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “We’re in an office nobody’s using, behind a locked door.”

“Don’t remind me, Darcy,” he murmured. “It’s taking every ounce of my willpower to keep from pulling you into my arms and kissing the very breath out of you.”

“Kissing’s not a sin,” she murmured back.

“Perhaps not, but I would not want to stop at just kissing, so it’s better if I don’t start.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek. “You are still _mon désir_ , Darcy. Never doubt that.”

She turned her head to kiss his palm and heard him whisper, _“Merde…”_ Before she could say anything, he brought his other hand up to her face. Darcy stared up at him and he stared back before muttering, _“Je suis déjà damné.”_

Then he kissed her. It started soft and sweet then passion overtook them. Without breaking the kiss, Steven picked her up and set her on the desk behind her as he moved to stand between her legs. Darcy, for her part, wrapped her arms around his neck. She desperately needed an anchor in the sea of emotion and pleasure she was in, and his solid form was perfect. Steven might have been a saint but he kissed like the naughtiest of sinners and she loved it.

When they came up for air, Steven gazed at her. She had never seen anyone look so torn.

He pressed his forehead against hers, sighing painfully. “I’d take you right now, satisfy both our desires, and yet-”

“Steven, it’s okay,” she murmured. “Really. I’m not gonna make you do something that goes against your moral code. Right now, just knowing you want me is enough.”

He laughed weakly. “I’ve wanted you since the moment we met, and I’ve fought my desire just as long. I prayed, I pleaded, I even…” He trailed off, blushing.

“Touched yourself?” she guessed softly.

Steven nodded. “But all of those solutions were only temporary. Nothing will completely satisfy me except you.”

“Hey, I’m in the same boat. We just gotta ride this out.” She kissed him softly. “We can talk when you get back from Germany, okay?”

 _“Ja, Liebling,”_ he said, smirking.

Darcy rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m still learning French pet names, don’t go switching languages on me now.” He chuckled and she grinned. “What did you say this time?”

“‘Yes, sweetheart.’”

She beamed at him.


	13. Chapter 13

“Shit, that’s Loki!” Darcy said into the comm. She was in some sort of communication room at the SHIELD office, watching Steven from thousands of miles away, thanks to drones and satellites.

“Should I know who that is?” Steven murmured through the comm as he approached the man forcing a crowd of Germans to kneel before him.

“Thor’s younger brother. He’s the actual Loki, the Norse god of mischief. If Jane marries Thor, and I think she’s gonna, this guy’ll be her brother-in-law.”

_“Bien sûr,”_ Steven muttered, rolling his eyes. “Strengths? Weaknesses?”

“Jane said he’s a friggin’ sorcerer, so don’t trust your eyes.”

“Understood.”

While Steven and Loki traded barbs, Natasha hovered above them in the Quinjet, unafraid to use a show of force to keep the trickster god in line.

Darcy, meanwhile, kept an eye out for any allies of Loki. _Call me paranoid but I’m not gonna let anyone get the drop on my guy._ She watched as Loki and Steven dueled, wincing every time Steven took a hit even though she knew his armor would protect him. _If I was there, I’d kick Loki’s ass for just looking at him wrong._

Loki was about to get the better of Steven when Iron Man dropped in, blaring AC/DC.

“I’ll take it from here, Lancelot,” he declared then he knocked Loki off his feet.

“And you are?” Steven asked as he got up, seemingly unimpressed.

Tony did his famous three-point landing then flipped up the face plate on the helmet, smirking. “Tony Stark. Iron Man. Avenger.”

“Your teammate,” Darcy added. “Apparently, Stark was the first person Fury approached about joining the Avengers Initiative.”

“I see.” Steven turned to Tony. “This is fascinating but if you will excuse me…” Loki was trying to sneak away so Steven grabbed him by the back of his collar with one hand and lifted him two feet off the ground. “This one is coming with me.”

“With us,” Tony insisted. He removed a pair of shackles from a compartment in his suit then slapped them on Loki’s wrists.

Natasha landed the Quinjet in a now-deserted street. Steven ignored Tony as he forced Loki onto the jet. Tony simply shrugged then followed them.

_Oh man, I wish I had popcorn right now,_ Darcy thought. Once Steven was inside the Quinjet, the images switched from drones and satellites to the cameras inside the jet. She knew flying made him nervous so she did the same thing she’d done during his flight to Germany – she talked to him.

“You did good, Big Guy,” she murmured.

_“Merci,”_ Steven murmured back. “Were you able to see everything?”

“Yep,” Darcy said, smiling. “SHIELD’s eyes in the sky work great.”

“I am uncomfortable with the idea of someone always watching,” he admitted quietly.

“An unfortunate fact of modern life, I’m afraid,” she said sympathetically.

“Who are you talking to?” Tony asked. He’d taken off his helmet but left his suit on.

“My handler.”

“You have a handler?” Tony turned to Natasha, who was in the co-pilot seat. “Hey, Romanoff, how come Rogers gets a handler and I don’t?”

“Because he’s seven hundred years in the future and you’re not,” Nat said then she grinned. “Besides, what do you think Pepper is?”

Tony chuckled. “Good point. Or, with Rogers around, maybe I should make that ‘ _Touché_.’”

“Do not feel obligated to speak French on my account, _Monsieur_ Stark,” Steven said.

“I think that’s his way of saying you’ll only mess it up,” Nat said, smirking.

Darcy giggled.

Tony ignored Nat. “Call me Tony,” he told Steven. “The only _Monsieur_ Stark was my father.”

Loki just rolled his eyes at all of them.

“‘Tony’ is too familiar,” Steven said.

“Fury said you were formal. Anthony, then.”

Steven assessed him. “Antoine.”

“Close enough.”

“Director Fury did not inform me he was sending reinforcements,” Steven said. He turned to Nat warily. “Did you know, Agt. Romanoff?”

“I knew it was a possibility,” she admitted. “Fury likes to keep his bases covered.”

“Baseball reference,” Darcy said. “I’ll explain it later.”

“No need,” Steven murmured. He looked at Tony and Nat. “I hope you are both aware this was too easily done. All of my instincts tell me this is a trap of some sort.”

The three of them looked at Loki, who smirked. “What sort of self-respecting villain would I be if I told you my plans?”

Steven murmured to Darcy, “What relevance does Loki being from a village have here?”

“What?” Darcy asked.

“He called himself a villain.”

_The meaning of the word must’ve changed since Steven’s time._ “These days, ‘villain’ means ‘bad guy.’ Um, hold on.” One quick Google translation later and she had her word. “The French word is ‘ _scélérat_ ,’ pardon my pronunciation.”

“I see,” Steven said, eyeing Loki carefully.

Lightning flashed outside the Quinjet and Darcy knew exactly what that meant. “Oh shit…”


	14. Chapter 14

Darcy had to hand it to her boyfriend ( _OMG, he’s my boyfriend now!_ ) – Steven knew how to keep two hotheads from killing each other. _He probably had loads of practice in the Templars._ Thor had tried hitting him with Mjolnir but when the hammer hit Steven’s Vibranium shield, it created a shock wave big enough to level part of the forest. _Note to self,_ Darcy thought _, irresistible force meeting immovable object always turns out badly._ She was pissed at Thor for coming back to Earth without telling Jane, but she figured teaching the Asgardian proper boyfriend etiquette could wait.

As soon as she saw the Quinjet was in the Helicarrier’s hangar, she murmured to Steven, “Hey, take a break.”

“Director Fury wants to ‘debrief us’ after he speaks to the prisoner,” he replied as he followed Natasha to the bridge. “Besides, I’m not fatigued.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a super-knight. You still need a mental break once in a while.”

Steven chuckled. “If you were here with me, _chérie_ , I would gladly ‘take a break’ with you.”

Darcy didn’t know she could beam and blush at the same time until that moment. “Unless my very limited French is way off, that’s that second time today you’ve called me ‘sweetheart.’”

He grinned. “You are correct.”

“Enough flirting, Rogers,” Natasha said, amused. “We’ve still got work to do.”

“I am well aware, Agt. Romanoff.”

“Call me Natasha.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were a Christmas baby?”

Nat smiled a bit. “Christmas Eve, yeah, but don’t go spreading that around. I stopped celebrating my birthday a long time ago.”

“Your secret is safe with me, _amie_. And Darcy, of course.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, impressed, “how did you get her birthday from her name?”

Steven chuckled. “Her name refers to the birth of Christ.”

“Huh. Well, lucky guess – I seriously doubt most parents these days know the meaning of Natasha, Natalie, whatever when they name their girls that.” She grinned. “So, you’re not just a polyglot, you’re a name geek.”

“‘Geek?’”

“Um, somebody who’s really interested in something.”

“Ah. I suppose I am.”

Darcy watched and listened as Fury and the newly-formed Avengers team discussed Loki’s plans at the conference table on the bridge. _I’m like the ultimate fly on the wall but I wish I could be there – the cameras don’t nearly pick up the colors in Steven’s eyes well-enough._ She felt really bad about Clint being brainwashed. “You do know how to fight somebody without killing them, right?” she murmured to Steven.

Steven rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, _mon ange_. I can incapacitate Agt. Barton safely if necessary.”

“Nobody’s fighting Barton but me,” Nat insisted. “I know how he moves and I seriously doubt being under the scepter’s influence has changed that.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at Steven. “Did you just call your handler ‘my angel?’”

“Busted,” Darcy said, giggling.

Steven looked at him levelly. “ _Mademoiselle_ Darcy Lewis is also my … in my time, ‘intended’ would be the proper term but I suppose the best word now is ‘girlfriend.’”

Thor grinned delightedly. “Darcy Lewis? Jane Foster’s assistant?”

He smiled a bit. “The same.”

“Hi, Thor,” Darcy said, grinning just as wide.

Steven chuckled. “She says ‘hi.’ Darcy works for SHIELD now, helping me to navigate the new world I find myself in.”

“She’s very knowledgeable about this world, you couldn’t have found a better guide,” Thor said approvingly. “She’s also very attractive and sweet, so you couldn’t have found a better intended.”

“Thank you.”

“Well,” Tony said, smirking, as he leaned back in his chair, “this gives ‘handler’ a whole new meaning.”

Darcy was too annoyed to explain the quip to Steven but she didn’t need to – the way his eyes narrowed told her he figured out the meaning on his own.

“You’re speaking about a lady, Antoine,” he said sternly. “Watch your tongue.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Tony protested.

“Words can still offend on their own, despite the speaker’s intention.”

“Children,” Fury said firmly, “can we get back to the matter at hand?”

“He started it,” Tony muttered.

“ _Pardonne-moi,_ Director Fury,” Steven said. “Please, continue.”


	15. Chapter 15

It wasn’t until after the meeting that Steven and Darcy met the other member of the team, Bruce Banner. The scientist had hidden himself away in one of the Helicarrier’s labs with Loki’s scepter, analyzing it. He looked up when Steven entered the room.

“You must be Steven,” Bruce said, a polite smile on his face but his eyes were wary. “Or do you prefer Etienne?”

“Steven, please, _Docteur_ Banner.”

“Call me Bruce.” He paused then gave him a genuine smile. “When this is over, I’d love to analyze your blood.”

Steven smiled a bit. “SHIELD scientists are already on that task but I am certain Director Fury wouldn’t object to another pair of eyes.”

“Good. It just blows my mind that you were comatose for seven hundred years.”

“Translate, please?” Steven murmured to Darcy.

“It means he can hardly believe it,” she said.

At Bruce’s curious look, Steven pointed to his earpiece, “My handler, Darcy Lewis. Also my girlfriend. She explains the things of this world I don’t understand.”

“So, basically everything?” Bruce asked, smiling sympathetically. “You must be overwhelmed.”

“About some things, yes, but I am in the best of hands. What hasn’t changed, though, is human nature.”

“You’re a little young to be that cynical,” Bruce said, shaking his head.

Steven smirked. “I’m 730 years old.”

“Yeah, but you only lived through thirty of those years.” Bruce smiled a bit. “You’re not allowed to be that cynical until you’re at least thirty-five.”

“Ha!” Darcy said, amused. “I’m five years younger than you, Steven, and I’m twice as cynical.”

Steven chuckled. “Darcy disagrees with you.”

“Yeah, well, young people always think they have a monopoly on cynicism but they won’t know real disappointment in humanity until they’re older.”

Steven raised an eyebrow. “What could have happened for you to give up on your fellow man?”

Bruce let out a humorless laugh. “I take it you don’t know my story.”

“I must admit I haven’t taken the time to do more than glance at everyone’s ‘files.’”

“Do you read English as well as you speak it? Or would you rather have a French version?”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Darcy asked. “Sorry, Steven.”

“It’s alright, _chérie_ ,” he murmured to her then he smiled at Bruce. “You’re the first person to ask that. I have no difficulties reading English, though I must admit modern ‘paperwork’ is dull compared to illuminated manuscripts.”

Bruce chuckled. “Yeah, it would be, but at least today’s manuals don’t take months to copy by hand and illustrate.”

Steven smiled a bit. “That is true.”

“To answer your question, my ‘fellow man’ let me down when I needed them most.”

He nodded. “Do you have someone you can turn to when that happens? I had my brother Templars, now I have Darcy and, I suppose, SHIELD.”

“I, um, I used to.” Bruce went back to analyzing the scepter. “Do you practice alchemy yourself?”

“There’s an empty chair over there,” Darcy cut in. “If you won’t take a break, will you at least sit down?”

Steven chuckled as he sat down in a chair in the corner. “Satisfied, _chérie_?”

“Yes,” she said, smug.

He looked at Bruce. “No, my talents lay in other fields of study.” At his curious look, Steven added, “Languages and battle strategy.”

“Not much call for knights on horseback these days, Lancelot,” Tony said as he walked in. “I can’t imagine your expertise is going to be that useful to us.”

“Some things never change,” Steven said, standing up and moving closer to him. “I know how to lead men into battle. I know when to press on, when to hold my ground, and when to retreat.”

“Yeah, I bet you did a lot of retreating,” Tony muttered.

“Are you calling me a coward, Antoine?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Hey, cool it,” Darcy protested. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”

Steven paused then removed his earpiece, leaving Darcy still able to see and hear what was going on but unable to talk to him.

 _We are so gonna have words about this,_ she thought, scowling.

Tony smirked. “You’re nothing more than an experiment, and a failed one at that.”

Steven raised an eyebrow. “I’m still alive, am I not? After seven centuries, I am the last Templar Knight. I carry the memory and ideals of my Order into a new millennium.”

“You were meant to be their best fighter. Has it occurred to you that if you hadn’t fallen, maybe your precious Order wouldn’t have been forced to disband?”

“Have you been talking to Agt. Coulson?”

“No need – my dad never shut up about you.”

“ _Pardon_?”

“Seventy years ago, in the middle of World War II, my dad went looking through a bombed-out church for anything useful and found you. Dad was raised Catholic. Most of it didn’t take but he still had respect for a first-class relic. He got you out just before a chunk of the wall would’ve crushed you.”

Steven stared at him. “Your father saved my life?”

“Yeah, and I’m starting to wonder if it was worth it.”

“Hey!” Darcy shouted, pissed off and not caring that none of them could hear her.

“And what of your own life? From what I have seen, you are nothing more than a rich man in fancy armor. I have met many knights like you, Antoine, and do you know where they were on the battlefield?”

“Where?” Tony asked, not backing down.

“Running away at the first opportunity while the rest of us were ankle-deep in blood. You are in this for the glory but I swear to you, there is no glory to be found in war, no matter what the tales say.”

Darcy watched as Nat walked into the lab, saw Steven and Tony in each other’s faces, then rolled her eyes. “I suggest you not let Fury see your little pissing contest.”

They turned to her. “‘Pissing contest?’” Steven asked, confused.

“‘Little?’” Tony asked, annoyed.

Darcy smirked. “Maybe if you still had your earpiece in, Steven, I’d tell you what a pissing contest is.” Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to see a monitor showing the outside of the Helicarrier. It picked up a jet returning, something she assumed was a regular sight.

She turned back to the other monitors just as Fury and Thor came into the lab. Fury looked decidedly not thrilled and once again, Darcy wanted popcorn.

_Somebody’s gonna get their butt handed to them._


	16. Chapter 16

The more the Avengers argued amongst themselves and with Fury, the more Darcy wanted to just smack them all upside the head. “Idiots. You’re supposed to be a team, act like it.” She couldn’t help imaging the six teammates engaged in “team-building exercises.” _Oh yeah, these guys doing trust falls? Never gonna happen._

Everything came to a head when Bruce unwittingly grabbed the scepter as he was telling them about his lowest point, then the unthinkable happened – a series of explosions rocked the Helicarrier. One of them exploded just below the lab, sending Nat and Bruce several stories below. Steven ordered Tony to put on his suit and Tony wasn’t about to argue.

Steven did take the time to put his earpiece back in before running towards danger.

“It’s about damn time,” Darcy muttered. “Never do that again.”

“ _Je m'excuse_ , Darcy. What can you see?”

She looked at the other monitors. “A lot of damage but SHIELD agents are handling it. Fury’s up at the bridge now, trying to land the Helicarrier before you guys just drop out of the sky. Loki’s thugs are all over the place, though. And Clint. Remember, Nat called dibs.”

“‘Dibs?’”

“First chance, basically. Staking a claim.”

“Of course.” He headed to the area of the Helicarrier Darcy told him had the most enemies.

She helped him when she could, but for the most part, all she could do was watch. That ended when Clint, his eyes glowing blue, shot some kind of trick arrow at one of the cameras and suddenly all of the monitors went black.

“Hey!” she protested.

“Darcy?” Steven asked. There was the sound of a punch and she assumed Steven was not on the receiving end of it.

“Clint took out the cameras, I can’t see a damn thing and the only thing I can hear is you.”

“Not to worry, _chérie_ – I think we have most of it under control.”

A loud roar was heard in the distance.

_Oh fuck… Somebody got on Bruce’s bad side._ “You were saying, Steven?”

“Pray for me, Darcy,” Steven murmured over the sounds of him running. “I think I am going to need all the help I can get.”

“You got it, Big Guy.” She paused. “Even with divine intervention, you still need to be safe. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Now is not the time to be cautious.” There was the sound of another punch and something that might have been a kick.

“Uh, no, I need your ass here in one piece.”

“But not the rest of me?” he asked, amused.

“Prick,” she murmured fondly.

Steven chuckled. “I see which parts you value most, _mon désir_. I’ll do my best to get them to you undamaged.”

Darcy rolled her eyes but she knew she was blushing. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she said, unable to keep a grin off her face despite the battle raging around her boyfriend. “I want all of you safe and sound.”

“Understood, _chérie_ ,” he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice.

_There’s gotta be something wrong with us,_ she thought, _flirting in the middle of a battle, but I wouldn’t have it any other way._


	17. Chapter 17

Before Steven could get to Banner, Tony needed his help restarting an engine that had been damaged. The billionaire threw technobabble at him.

“Darcy?” Steven asked, utterly confused.

“Yeah, no clue,” she replied.

Steven turned to Tony. “English, _s'il vous plaît_.”

Tony sighed heavily. “Just … move the red lever when I tell you to.”

“Why did you not say that in the first place?”

“I did.”

“Of course,” Steven muttered.

“Hey,” Darcy cut in, “ask Tony if he can get the cameras back online.”

“I think he has other priorities currently, _chérie_ ,” he said, amused. “Keeping us in the air first, then letting you see the battlefield.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean right now.” She could hear more of Loki’s thugs attack Steven and despite her own feelings about religion, she prayed, though it was more like a mantra. _Keep him safe. Keep him safe. Keep him safe._

It went like that for the rest of the battle – Steven fighting goons, helping his teammates, and making Darcy worry. Tony did get the cameras to work again, just in time for Darcy to see Loki about to stab Coulson in the back.

“No!” she shouted, staring at the screen in shock, but before she could call for help, she realized the scepter wasn’t penetrating. “What the heck?”

Coulson turned to Loki, smirking. “It’s amazing how thin they can make body armor these days.” Then he blasted the trickster through a wall with a gun that was inspired by the Destroyer.

“Oh, thank God,” she muttered.

“Darcy?” Steven asked, concerned. “Is someone in danger?”

“Loki tried to stab Coulson but he’s fine.” When the agent dropped to his knees, she added, “Um, maybe not.” She switched to talk to his earpiece. “Coulson? You good?”

“I’m good. My back, not so much...”

“Just sit tight, medics will be on the way.”

He looked over to where Loki had fallen and cursed. “He’s gone. Don’t worry about me, worry about Stark and Rogers keeping this thing in the air.”

Darcy switched back to Steven and she could see him move the lever just in time to keep Tony from being torn apart. Another screen showed the empty room where Loki’s prison had been and no sign of Thor. “Um, Steven? Where’s Thor? And for that matter, where’s the Hulk?”

“Gone, both of them,” he said, his tone full of regret. “I … I fear both of our comrades have died.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being around super-powered heroes, it’s that you can’t assume someone’s dead until you actually see a body. Hulk and Thor are pretty indestructible, from what I’ve seen and read.”

Steven smiled sheepishly, visibly relieved. “I suppose I should read their files in depth.”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” she said, smiling.

Fury’s voice cut through. “Everything contained up there?”

Steven knocked out one last goon. “It is now, sir.”

“Rogers, I’m going to need you on the bridge.”

“Yes, sir,” Steven said. “I’ll be right there.”

“When all of this is over,” Darcy declared, “you are taking a nap.”

Steven chuckled as he ran, dodging damaged parts of the Helicarrier along the way. “I promise, _chérie_.”


End file.
